“Why, what do you desire me to do, madam?” 122 stammered the miller, abashed by the lady’s beauty and condescension.
“What only a brave man could accomplish, my friend,” she replied; “all that you have to do is to pass three consecutive nights in the old manor which you can see over there.”
The miller shuddered, for he had heard the most terrible stories in connexion with the ruined manor, which had an evil name in the district.
“Alas! madam,” he said, “whom might I not encounter there! Even the devil himself——”
“My good friend,” said the Princess, sadly, “if you do as I ask you will have to encounter not one but a dozen devils, who will torment you in every possible way. But fear nothing, for I can provide you with a magic ointment which will preserve you entirely from all the injuries they would attempt to inflict upon you. Even if you were dead I could resuscitate you. I assure you that if you will do as I ask you will never regret it. Beneath the hearthstone in the hall of the manor are three casks of gold and three of silver, and all these will belong to you and to me if you assist me; so put your courage to the proof, I pray you.”
The miller squared his shoulders. “Lady,” he said, “I will obey you, even if I have to face a hundred devils instead of twelve.”
The Princess smiled encouragingly and disappeared. On the following night the miller set out for the old manor, carrying a bundle of faggots to make a fire, and some cider and tobacco to refresh him during his vigil. When he arrived in the dismal old place he sat himself down by the hearth, where he had built a good fire, and lit his pipe. But he had scarcely done so when he 123 heard a most tremendous commotion in the chimney. Somewhat scared, he hid himself under an old bed which stood opposite the hearth, and, gazing anxiously from his place of concealment, beheld eleven grisly fiends descend from the flue. They seemed astonished to find a fire on the hearth, and did not appear to be in the best of tempers.
“Where is Boiteux?” cried one. “Oh,” growled another, who appeared to be the chief of the band, “he is always late.”
“Ah, behold him,” said a third, as Boiteux arrived by the same road as his companions.
“Well, comrades,” cried Boiteux, “have you heard the news?” The others shrugged their shoulders and shook their heads sulkily.